A Tempest Of Sorts

Wind of the solitude,

Streamed for a breeze,

The calm bequeaths me,

As I envision the storm.

There lying before me,

A child yells for his mother,

As people huddle,

For they have lost their sole will.

It has struck fast,

A tempest of sorts,

Taking away our land,

And away our very brethren.

Breeze after breeze,

Hitting harder as time passes on,

Oh! please stop my Lord,

For we cannot move on.

Into the eye of the storm,

I hear wails on and on,

As I see people getting flung around,

Oh my! What is this state we are on?

Oh! Ravicious wind please smooth on,

Please forgive us if we have done wrong,

Leave for the far away,

As it is hard for us to leave all.

Trashing our ancestral land,

We cannot tread on,

Because connected are we with this fine land,

That has given us our own.

As time passed on,

And the dust swept by,

I then saw what was left behind,

Heaps of bodies mistaken as trash,

Thrown askew in despairs form.

Ah! This is not the dream I envision,

For in my sight and my vision,

I see a future of peace,

Not drugged with misery.

But alas! Man doth art know thy mistakes,

The path thy treaded on,

Briddled with mistakes and further storms,

Being unable to conquer all.

Try to unite as one,

Cultivate this harmonious symphony,

Be one with nature's form,

For then you would hear this heart's beat.

For then you would hear the nature's beat,

That has skipped through generations,

To be one with those destined,

With a green thumb and a beauty of a mind,

To be one with those destined,

To save what is left of a crumbling heart.

Farmer's April

April is a month of heat waves in the equatorial countries and one's by it which makes life for the one's who truly feed us, our dear farmer's life miserable. I read time and again about farmers committing suicide because their crops fail them. Because they cannot sustain their own or their families life. Now let's make this post global to aware the authorities around the world the plight of the true breadwinners 'the farmers' and make them take an initiative to help them.

Farmers April

To what purpose April do you return again,
This month has always given me pain.
Standing there mocking me my crops fail,
It gives me sadness that I can only wail.

This desolate fortitude of land,
That has turned into a pile of sand,
Stares back at me in mirth,
As it turns into hopeless dearth.

Every day I toil around,
To see the land a bit more browned,
With my hopes up do I work again,
To turn around what is now a bane.

For this month of my sleeps terror,
Has led me back again further,
With death mocking me as my crops fail,
To what purpose April do you return again?

100 Faces

The man with 100 faces,
Passes through the town in a daze,
As people enquire about thee,
Will they find no history.

The face changes time to time,
Situations arise and subside,
No one knows your true face,
Or your murderous gaze.

Fickle or sweet thy decide,
As he changes his face,
Like a scene from a dream,
Fast and ever changing is his face.

A sneer behind that infamous mask,
Plotting for the next act,
Smiling and deceptive at all times,
Until the tiger has pounced and attacked.

Sweet you may feel he is,
Soft hearted you may say,
When truly frozen is he,
Iced from head to toe.

It as hardships thy say,
That changed him into the beast,
But pray tell innocence,
Are thou a simple being mutated.

As the 100 faces he possess,
Turn around and escape thy wonder,
Is it a poor soul or a vicious beast,
Behind this sweet mask that he possess.

Years Down The Lane

Years down the lane,
I find my life on a single plane,
That angle of my life I had to sacrifice,
To give my hopes and dreams a feeling suffice.

Those strenuous hours and hard days,
When my mind was far from the games of mud and clay,
When my life was just beads of blood,
That dripped as I toiled down my road.

Oh! The tiresome hours I spent,
To find and reach a dream so hard to be lent,
Those tears I shed to follow the path of all,
That I forgot to hear the call.

The very call of my heart,
That tune of symphony,
Which hummed my beloved desires,
To follow the dreams so close to me,
To follow the path that none could,
and to strive and beat the world.

For then would my heart calm,
For then would my eyes forsake the tears shed.